


One Night in Miami

by vix_spes



Category: Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: #EatTheRare Fest, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dancing, Getting Together, Hannibal Extended Universe, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: Being back in Miami was hardly how Luke had envisaged it but a mysterious man in black might just turn things around.





	One Night in Miami

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing this pairing and also my first fic for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive's Eat the Rare Fest 2017. Huge thanks to Kateera for the amazing and quick beta.

Not for the first time that evening, Luke Brandon shifted awkwardly in his seat, feeling horribly out of place. It had been a complete mistake coming here. Not only did he feel as though everyone was watching him, due to him being one of the few single people present, but there were also a lot of memories tied up in this place and, in all probability, Luke knew that he should have booked a different place. Picked a different venue for the evening. After all, it had been the same hotel that he and Rebecca had stayed in when they came to Miami for that conference when they both still worked at Successful Savings, the bar in the square when he’d bought Rebecca the fan and they had danced.

Happier times that felt as though they were eons ago.

In many ways, Luke supposed that he’d been foolish to just assume that things would work perfectly with Rebecca, even after he’d bought the treasured and oh-so-important green scarf at the auction. Rebecca might not be another Alicia but there was no denying her ambition and everyone had known that Successful Savings was far from her ideal job. Luke had been hopeful when she had come to join him at Brandon Communications but, eventually, even that had been too good to be true.

It was a year ago that she had been offered a job in the fashion world – what she had craved for so long – as a buyer and Luke had urged her to accept it, knowing that he would hate himself for stopping Rebecca from doing what she truly wanted. They had just about managed to make it work for three months before it became apparent that they were spending more time apart than they were together and that wasn’t what either of them wanted. It was now seven months since they split up and Luke was still decidedly single despite all of the messages from Alicia offering to comfort him.

He wasn’t trying to remain single, wasn’t doing so because he insisted that he still loved Rebecca. Well, he did love her in many ways but he wasn’t mistakenly clinging to the belief that he was still in love with her. No, Luke Brandon was still single because he was a workaholic, just like his parents. He had been so desperate to prove that he was capable of running a well-respected company on his own merit, something that he had built and created himself, something that hadn’t been handed to him on a plate. Brandon Communications may have still been in its infancy, but it was already showing signs of being everything that Luke craved. As such, maybe it was time for Luke to put himself back out there, many contemplate dating again.

With that in mind, Luke raised a hand and signalled to get the waiter's attention. One thing was for certain; he was going to need a serious amount of alcohol if he wanted to get through this evening.

Three mojitos with extra shots later and Luke was finally starting to relax. He was even, dare he say it, starting to have a pleasant evening. Granted, it would be infinitely better if he wasn’t by himself, but it was a novelty to be able to just sit, have a drink, and watch the people dancing and the people just passing by. There was an interesting mix of locals who clearly came here to dance all the time and tourists who were mostly concentrating on not standing on each other’s feet. There were a few more same sex couples this time and Luke watched them curiously before his attention was drawn away by another mojito being set down in front of him. He looked up in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve made a mistake; I didn’t order this.”

“No, no mistake. The gentleman over in the corner ordered it for you. Sends it with his compliments.”

Luke craned his neck to try and spot the man in question. For a moment, he was confused as everyone that he saw seemed to be part of a couple but then, a couple of people shifted, and Luke saw the man, the waiter confirming it for him seconds later.

“That’s him, dude sat in the corner all in black.”

As the waiter disappeared, Luke reached for his drink, raising it in silent thanks and receiving an incline of the head in response. While he drank the mojito, Luke snuck a few glances at the man as discreetly as he could. The man was more than a little incongruous with his serious demeanour and all-black outfit. He was also staring straight at Luke, the intensity of his gaze somewhat unnerving. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it had been a while since Luke had been the object of someone’s attention like this, and well, he hadn’t been expecting it. Turning his attention back to the dancers, he sipped his mojito and wondered what he should do.

Had it been a woman who had sent the drink over then he wouldn’t be second-guessing himself, but, if you discounted Rebecca, then it had been an awfully long time since he’d dipped his toe into the often shark-infested waters of the dating pool and even longer since his few and far between flirtations with men. He’d reached the bottom of his drink without realising it and was debating whether to return to his hotel or order another when a hand appeared in his line of vision, setting a glass down and taking the decision out of his hands. Luke frowned as he realised said hand didn’t belong to the waiter and looked up into the eyes of his mysterious man in black.

He stared, immediately transfixed.

Earlier, the man had been cloaked in the shadows and his features had been hard to truly make out, although it was clear that he was handsome. Up close, handsome was an understatement. He had cheekbones that could cut glass, broad shoulders in the impeccably tailored designer suit, one brown and one blue eye with the left curiously scarred, and a small smile playing on his lips, showing that he was aware of Luke’s perusal and allowing it all the same.

“I hope you don’t mind.” The man gestured at the drink he had placed in front of Luke, his words tinged with an accent that Luke couldn’t place. “Someone as beautiful as you should have a multitude of admirers sending drinks in the hopes of being noticed.”

Luke gave an embarrassed chuckle as he felt the heat in his cheeks rise. “I’d hardly say I’m beautiful, but thank you, Mr.?”

“Duran. Jean Duran.”

“Well, thank you, Mr Duran. For both of the drinks.” Luke bit his lip as he debated internally over his next actions. He may have been attracted to a few men in the past but he’d never pursued them and the couple of drunken snogs that he’d previously participated in definitely didn’t count. “Umm … would you like to join me?”

The man accepted, folding into the seat with a grace that Luke envied. “You know my name; may I know yours? Or should I just continue to refer to you as beautiful?”

“It’s Luke, Luke Brandon. And I’ve said it before, I’m hardly beautiful.”

“But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? Thus, if I say you are beautiful then that is what you are, whether you believe it or not.”

Luke grumbled quietly but did not argue. The man was clearly charming and, well, truth be told, Luke was more than a little flattered. Trying not to let it show, Luke took a sip of his drink and spoke.

“What brings you to Miami, Mr Duran?”

“Jean, please. And business, as is so often the case. And you?”

“Same. I set up my own company a year or so ago and I’m here for a conference; Brandon Communications. It’s a financial PR company. What is it that you do?”

“Me? This and that. Perhaps I am best described as a financier.”

“We’re in the same line of work then.”

“Of sorts.”

The half-smile on Jean’s face combined with the scar that bisected his left eye told Luke that he was undoubtedly being hopelessly naïve and that they weren’t in the same field of work in the slightest. Jean was probably involved in something shady like drug smuggling or whatever, but Luke found that he didn’t really care. He was only in Miami for a couple of nights and what was the likelihood that he would see Jean after tonight? No, he was going to enjoy himself and the company that he had attracted. Smiling at the company in question, he raised his glass in a silent toast and took a healthy swallow.

“Your accent … I’ve never heard it before. Where are you from?”

“I was born in Albania but … how best to say it? I do not consider myself to be Albanian, more stateless. I am constantly travelling for work so I do not call any specific place home, although I have a yacht berthed in Montenegro.”

“It sounds lonely.” And it did. Luke certainly couldn’t imagine living like that.

“Sometimes, perhaps. Tonight? I like to think not.”

Luke felt his cheeks flush again at the insinuation and looked out at the dancers, once more unable to look Jean in the eyes.

“You’ve spent a long time watching the dancers this evening. Why do you not join them?”

“In order to do that, I’d need a partner.”

“Then allow me.”

Luke hesitated, his eyes flickering from the outstretched hand, to Jean’s face, to the dance floor, while his mind whirred at a mile a minute. He had one more night in Miami after this, they wouldn’t be the only same sex couple on the dance floor and, most importantly, there was an incredibly handsome and charming man who wanted to dance with him. What did he have to lose? Reaching out, Luke placed his hand in Jean’s with something of a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I apologise in advance for your toes; I don’t know how good I am at following.”

“My toes will be fine, I assure you.”

He hadn’t been lying. Dancing with Jean was completely different to dancing with Rebecca, even if the steps were the same. With Rebecca, there had been plenty of fumbling and a lot of giggling, what with Rebecca being a complete novice and Luke perhaps not the best teacher. Now, Luke didn’t even have to think; he just had to surrender himself because there was no doubt about it, Jean was in control. It was a little strange, but a large part of Luke liked not having to think too much, liked giving up control.

As they started to dance, Luke was careful to keep at least some distance between them, wary of what was acceptable. Jean was clearly having none of his hesitation however, and having sent Luke away from him in a turn, used the return motion to pull Luke in closer to his body. Luke’s hand – the one that wasn’t currently being held in a cool strong grip – hovered in mid-air before he decided to stop overthinking things and set it down on Jean’s shoulder. Almost immediately, the arm that was banded around Luke’s middle tightened fractionally, long fingers squeezing Luke’s waist approvingly.

It didn’t take Luke long to realise that the dance that he and Jean were engaging in was completely different to the other couples around them. It was intimate, far more so than you would expect from two people that had only just met. Luke could have sworn that he felt the weight of Jean’s gaze on him. As it was, he was hyper-aware of every single place that their bodies touched, the heat of Jean’s hand burning through Luke’s shirt at his waist a contrast to the cool flesh where they clasped hands, of each breath that he could feel against his ear, of the tendrils of lust starting to coil in the pit of his belly. Turning his head ever so fractionally to the right, Luke confirmed what he had suspected; Jean’s gaze was completely and utterly fixed on Luke. They may as well have been alone, not in a square surrounded by dancing strangers.

Tilting his head back the scant couple of inches that he needed to meet Jean’s eyes, Luke found himself somewhat unnerved by the intensity he found there. The thought struck him that it was highly likely that Jean was a very dangerous man, but it didn’t stop the surge of sheer want that shot through him. Dangerous man or not, there was no denying the sexual tension thrumming between them and Luke found himself sorely tempted to succumb to it.

Jean wasn’t unaffected either. Unconsciously swaying closer, Luke felt an unmistakable hardness press against his thigh and had to bite back a moan. Meeting Jean’s eyes, he traced his bottom lip with his tongue only for it to be replaced by Jean’s thumb seconds later.

“I am not so crass as to kiss you for the first time in public, although I very much want to. Perhaps you would consent to returning to my hotel room instead?”

Luke deliberated the request for all of thirty seconds before he daringly nipped the nap of Jean’s thumb with his teeth, seeing Jean’s eyes darken in response. “Lead the way.”

(~*~)

“This isn’t a hotel room, this is a bloody suite.”

Luke looked around in amazement. He was from money and was used to the nicer things in life, but, even so, he would balk at spending the amount of money that this had undoubtedly cost for a business meeting.

“What did you say you did again?”

“Do you really want to discuss my employment right now?”

Luke looked over his shoulder to see Jean moving towards him with a predator’s rolling gait. He couldn't help backing up instinctively until he felt a wall at his back and was forced to come to a halt. Steeling himself, he swallowed heavily. “No?”

Luke found himself as nervous as a teenager awaiting his first kiss as Jean stopped in front of him, cupping his face with a hand and tilting it upwards. Meeting that mismatched gaze, Luke thought he could see a glint of humour there.

“You’re trembling. Does the prospect of a kiss terrify you that much?”

“No!” Luke hesitated. “Maybe?”

The ensuing chuckle sent another shiver running through Luke but then Jean’s lips were on his and he couldn’t think of anything else. It was little more than a simple brush of lips, but even so, Luke felt his eyes drifting shut as he exhaled somewhat raggedly. It was more than a little unnerving that Jean, a man that he had never met before this evening, could have such an effect on him, an effect he’d never experienced with any of his other previous partners. Before Luke could think of opening his eyes, a second hand was cupping his face, holding him in place as Jean’s lips returned to his far more insistently. Luke’s hands grasped awkwardly at thin air as his lower lip was suckled on and given a teasing nip from surprisingly sharp canines. This time, when Jean pulled away, Luke chased after him blindly, only opening his eyes at Jean’s amused chuckle.

“Not so terrified now?”

Before Luke could respond, he found himself being drawn back towards Jean, his head angled slightly so that Jean’s lips slanted over his. Deciding to stop overthinking everything and simply enjoy what was being offered, Luke surrendered himself to Jean, responding to the kiss with alacrity. Feeling a tongue swipe at the seam of his lips, Luke parted them with a moan, swaying into Jean and clinging to the lapels of his suit jacket as Jean’s tongue delved into his mouth exploratively, coaxing Luke into responding. It was strange not being the dominant party, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and Luke found that he rather enjoyed giving up control and simply surrendering to all the sensations washing over him. It was making Luke’s head spin; the slight rasp of stubble against his skin, the musky scent of Jean’s cologne, and the undeniable masculinity of the body holding him close. Twining his arms around Jean’s neck, Luke kissed back eagerly, feeling Jean’s hard cock pressed against his thigh, even through two sets of trousers. Pulling back for air, Luke cried out as he saw blood trickling down Jean’s face.

“You're bleeding!”

Jean seemed unconcerned, holding Luke close with one arm while the other dabbed away the blood with a handkerchief that he produced from somewhere.

“It is nothing to concern yourself with. A rare condition that stems from a defective tear duct. Certainly nothing that should derail our evening.”

Luke gave Jean an assessing look, saw the sincerity in his gaze, and didn’t bother to respond verbally, taking Jean’s explanation at face value. Instead, he slid his fingers up Jean’s chest, pulling him down into a kiss that was downright dirty and full of tongue, as he pushed the suit jacket from Jean’s shoulders before scrabbling with the buttons of Jean’s shirt, not really caring that half of them ended up on the floor along with the incredibly expensive shirt. Jean’s shirt was followed by Luke’s, two pairs of trousers, and two sets of underwear alongside shoes and socks, before Luke was tumbled back onto the bed, landing on sheets that he knew were some ridiculously high thread count just from the feel of them. Looking up, Luke saw Jean standing at the foot of the bed, his cock hanging thick and heavy between his thighs.

Tearing his eyes away from the, quite frankly, rather intimidating sight of Jean’s cock, Luke was once more struck by how predatory Jean appeared, staring hungrily at Luke spread out naked on the sheets. Feeling simultaneously desired and over-exposed, Luke fought the need to cover himself as Jean’s gaze raked over him. And then Jean pounced, crawling onto the bed and blanketing himself over Luke as he took his lips in another possessive kiss before moving his attention elsewhere when Luke felt his lungs were going to run out of air.

Nothing went unexplored as Jean left marks in his wake, livid bruises that would remain for several days and make it obvious what the two of them had been up to, if anyone were to see them. Luke found that he quite liked the idea. With the way that Jean was applying his sharp teeth - they could almost be described as fangs - to Luke's skin, Luke would certainly be feeling the marks for days and that wasn't taking into consideration the fucking that was to come. Anticipation and nerves warred for prominence in his body. He wriggled slightly, suppressing the urge to laugh as hands skimmed down his sides, moaning loudly as Jean licked a broad swathe along the crease at the top of Luke’s thighs. At the back of his mind, he was astonished by the noises that were escaping him and the volume of said noises, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. His legs spread wider of their own accord as Jean peppered his inner thighs with gentle nips from his sharp teeth, but Luke didn't care how eager or wanton he seemed. Indeed, he was disappointed when Jean sat back between his thighs, staring at him intently with that mismatched gaze.

“I am more in the habit of simply taking what I want rather than asking permission so I will not ask again. If you do not want this, say now and leave. After this, you will not be leaving until I permit you.”

“Don't stop, Jean, please. I want this.”

“Good. That was the answer I was hoping for.”

Hands scrabbled on Jean’s shoulders as the older man finally licked a thick stripe up the underside of Luke’s cock before engulfing it in his mouth. Jean pulled back long enough to slick his fingers with lube, that Luke hadn't even seen materialise, before taking his cock back into his mouth as he grazed his fingers over Luke’s perineum. Jean continued licking and sucking as he inserted one finger, distracting him as he slowly stretched him, adding fingers when he felt Luke was ready and steadily preparing him for his cock.

It was an almost entirely new situation for Luke. He'd done a bit of tentative exploration in the past when he'd been masturbating, but not a lot. It was an alien sensation, but not entirely unpleasant.

Jean seemed to delight in preparing Luke excruciatingly slowly, clearly relishing in the responses that he was drawing from him. Luke appreciated it given Jean’s size, but even so, the thorough fingering had him writhing, desperate for more. He gave a high-pitched cry as Jean let his cock slide from his mouth with a slick pop as he added a third finger, before brushing over a spot inside Luke that had his hips bucking violently.

“Ah!” He looked at Jean who wore a distinctly smug expression on his face as he continued his ministrations, rubbing insistently over the little nub inside Luke that had caused the sharp spike in pleasure, until Luke was rutting shamelessly back on Jean’s fingers, little huffs of breath and whimpers escaping him. He felt as though his skin was on fire, but he couldn't help but want more, blushing furiously as he felt Jean’s intense gaze on him as he struggled to find somewhere to look that wasn’t naked skin.

More than a few silvery scars were visible on Jean’s chest, but Luke was more interested in the fact that it was covered in a veritable pelt of dark, slightly greying hair, and Luke couldn't resist the temptation to rake his fingers through it, tugging sharply as Jean’s fingers crooked inside him, making him beg.

“Oh fuck! Fuck! Jean, more.”

Jean clamped his unoccupied hand around Luke’s hip, stilling his movements without removing his fingers as he looked straight into slightly glazed eyes. “Do you know what you’re saying, Luke?”

Luke was fairly certain that he looked thoroughly debauched with his thighs spread obscenely and Jean’s marks decorating his body. He certainly felt wanton enough, but clearly Jean liked what he saw. He reached out with one hand and snagged the small packet lying on the bedside table, hands perfectly steady as he opened it and rolled the condom onto himself, before removing his fingers from Luke and coating his condom-sheathed cock with more lube. That done, he lay on his back and coaxed Luke into straddling his hips so that Jean’s thumbs rested on Luke’s hipbones while his fingers were splayed over Luke’s arse. Luke quickly caught on to what he wanted and raised himself on his knees, hands resting on Jean’s chest for support, taking deep breaths and trying to relax as much as he could, knowing that it would help.

Luke lowered himself slowly, his hands clinging to Jean’s shoulders in an almost vice-like grip, taking more of Jean into himself with every breath, feeling as though his cock was splitting him open. Both their bodies were slick with sweat and they were breathing heavily as Luke slowly inched down Jean’s cock, sheathing it in his body. Only when his arse was pressed into the cradle of Jean’s hips did Luke stop to catch his breath and allow his body time to process what it was experiencing. He felt full to the brim, more akin to pain than pleasure.

Luke started to rock his hips incrementally, gasping at the sensations the action produced.

Slowly, as Luke got more comfortable with the feeling of Jean inside him, with the feeling of being stretched around Jean’s girth, he tensed his thighs and started to move himself up and down, aided by the hands gripping his hips, riding Jean’s cock. One unerring thrust grazed over his prostate and Luke tossed his head back in pleasure, eyes slipping shut of their own accord.

“Stroke yourself.”

Luke’s eyes flew open and locked with Jean’s, seeing that his eye was bleeding again but too caught up in the moment to really care. It was undeniably a command, one that Luke had no intention of disregarding. Leaving one hand pressed to Jean’s chest, he took his cock in the other, his rhythm faltering somewhat as he was overcome by the dual sensations. Jean took over, using his grip on Luke’s hips as leverage, raising his hips as Luke lowered himself and driving himself into Luke. It clearly wasn’t enough though. Jean lifted Luke off his cock, studiously ignoring Luke’s whimper of discontent as he did so, and pushed Luke down so that he was lying face-up on the mattress. It was the work of minutes for him to push Luke’s legs up towards his chest and then Jean re-sheathed himself in Luke’s tight heat in one thrust, eliciting a whimper from Luke, although whether it was pleasure or pain, he wasn't sure. Jean started to move in and out of Luke with steady strokes, wringing small, indecipherable sounds from Luke and nearly folding him in half with every movement. Jean’s hand snuck in between them, enveloping Luke’s hand that was already wrapped around his cock, and stroking Luke’s cock in time with his thrusts. Luke wailed, as he came, spilling himself over their joined hands and his stomach. Even as Luke’s body was still writhing in orgasm, Jean continued thrusting into him, not caring that he was pushing Luke’s body into the realm of over-sensitivity with each snap of his hips until he came with a snarl.

Luke was dimly aware of Jean pulling out, mostly due to the feeling of emptiness he was left with. He propped himself up against the pillows with a little difficulty, admiring the view as Jean crossed the room and opened a bottle of champagne, pouring two flutes before returning to hand one to Luke, completely unabashed in his nakedness.

“Are we not going to, um, clean up?”

“We could, but what would be the point when I intend to have you again as soon as we are able?”

Luke groaned as his spent cock twitched feebly in interest against his stomach at Jean’s words. His entire body ached already, but it was a good ache, the kind that came from really good sex and an entirely new sensation for him. He couldn't help blushing at Jean’s smug look, but resolutely kept eye contact.

“Perhaps this time I shall take you from behind. As pretty as your face is, your arse is just as delectable.”

~*~

The following morning when Luke woke, thanks to the bright sunshine flooding in through the windows, it was to an empty bed and cold sheets. He didn’t have to check the rest of the suite to know that Jean had gone and he was quite surprised to find that the knowledge sent a pang of disappointment through him. Moving tentatively, he sat up and winced, coming to the conclusion that he would be feeling their encounter for several days to come; despite Luke’s inexperience and Jean’s size, they hadn’t stopped at one round. Gathering the sheet around him, not comfortable being naked, even if he was alone, Luke looked around for the bathroom, only for something out on the balcony to catch his attention.

Stepping outside, he lifted the cover of the tray to find breakfast and a pot of hot coffee waiting for him. Nestled between the plate of pastries and the cup was an unassuming piece of cardstock with elegant writing sloping across it; a business card.

_I regret that urgent business in Africa calls me away. However, I would not be averse to seeing you again one day, Luke Brandon._

Beneath the text was a cell number written in the same cursive. A smile curving his lips, Luke tapped the card against his mouth.

One night in Miami it might have been, but maybe not just one night altogether.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on DW, you can do so [here](https://vix-spes.dreamwidth.org/284413.html)
> 
> If you'd like to share on Tumblr, [here](http://vix-spes.tumblr.com/post/165770839740/one-night-in-miami-vixspes-confessions-of-a) is the post


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